


Heart Song

by Golden_Asp



Series: Ardyn YesCon Week works [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Ignis, Ignis plays the guitar, M/M, Music, Noctis is...you'll see, Phantom of the Opera Reference, Yes con day 6, homeless Ignis, i don't know how to tag, pianist Ardyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp
Summary: The music drew Ardyn through the park.  It was beautiful and heart breaking.  He watched the scarred man play the guitar as if it was the only thing that mattered.  The music of the man's soul moved him.





	Heart Song

**Author's Note:**

> yes con day six, unexpected prompt, breaking down walls. back on the angst train, although I don't think is quite as sad as the actual angst day offering.
> 
> highly recommend listening to the piano arrangement of Somnus for this. It's the song Ardyn plays.
> 
> Please enjoy.
> 
> Art by Miura Sky  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MiuraSky)
> 
>  
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/golden_asp)

_Clink!_

“Thank you,” Ignis murmured, fingers never ceasing their movement over the strings of his guitar. He kept his head down, lanky hair covering his eyes. His glasses had broke some time ago, and he knew the scars on his face were horrid to look at.

They were nothing to scars on his soul.

He lost track of time as he sat in the park, old guitar cradled in his arms, deft fingers pulling melancholy music from his heart.

It had been more than two years since he had played something happy, more than two years since he’d had a home, more than two years since the car crash that took everything from him.

He shook his head, fingers bringing forth the wrong note. He cursed himself, settling down. He couldn’t get distracted. It was better not to think of what he had lost.

He couldn’t help it. His mind always went back to that night, to Noctis.

He felt the tear run down his right cheek. He couldn’t cry from his left eye anymore. Not since the accident.

They had been driving home from a performance, him and his fiancé Noctis. They had played wonderfully, beautifully, like they were the only two people in the world. The music they made together was their life, and the songs they wrote reflected it.

The drunk driver had hit them going over 100 miles per hour, sending their little car plummeting down a ravine. The drunk driver walked away, Noctis was killed on impact.

Ignis was trapped in the car, unconscious. 

It wasn’t until he woke up days later in the hospital, after many surgeries to fix the bones in his face, that he realized two things.

He was blind. His left eye was gone, his right eye rendered useless by the damage to his optic nerve.

But the worst thing…the worst thing was when Noctis’ father held his hand and told him that Noctis had died.

Ignis was alone, and he only wished he had died with Noctis.

God knew he had tried. He tried to drink himself to death, took sleeping pills, walked through traffic drunk and blind just daring someone to hit him. He would welcome death with open arms.

But it never happened.

Noctis’ flute had been destroyed in the crash, flung from the car as they flipped down the ravine. Ignis’ guitar had survived, somehow.

He didn’t question it. He was thankful for it. Noctis had given it to him along with the engagement ring when he’d asked Ignis to marry him.

Ignis wore the ring around his neck, and his guitar was the only thing he had left.

He’d lost his sight, his home, his fiancé.

But he still had his music.

FFXV

Ardyn Izunia walked through the park, red scarf tucked around his neck against the late fall chill in the air. His fingers moved against his thighs, moving in intricate patterns as if over the keys of piano.

He paused, head tilting. He could hear guitar music coming from up ahead. 

He knew that this section of the park was frequented by homeless, and he had originally planned on going around that part. The music drew him closer.

He paused, staring at the man holding the guitar.

The first thing Ardyn noticed was the guitar. It was expensive, a very nice acoustic model, and very well cared for. It seemed that the man took better care of his guitar than himself.

The man had ash brown hair, long enough to hang over his eyes. He wore a ratty old jacket, and his boots were held together with duct tape. His fingers caressed the strings of the guitar with love, and passion, and such heartache that it twisted Ardyn’s own heart.

He stood back, closing his eyes and listening to the music.

It told a story of love and heartbreak and utter loneliness that shook Ardyn to his core. What had this man been through that he could make such music? Surely it was his own composition. Ardyn knew nearly all of the classics and this was something he had never heard before.

He opened his eyes at the clink of a coin in the little jar the man had in front of him. He heard the man whisper thank you, his voice deep and melodic and oh so sad.

He watched as the man hung his head, and he saw a tear roll down the man’s cheek.

The music changed, becoming darker, deeper, cutting into Ardyn like well honed blade. Now it was a story of death and longing.

Ardyn wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching the man play. People walked by, most ignoring the man and his music. A few dropped in coins and small bills, and Ardyn was enraged to see someone drop in a bottle cap.

The sun was starting to set, but he couldn’t move. The music held him captive, wrapped around his very soul. He could listen to his man forever.

The man sighed, fingers going still. The music stopped, echoing with finality around the emptying park.

Ardyn watched as the man reached for the worn guitar case at his side, fingers patting the ground until he found it. He lovingly set the guitar in its home, latching it closed. He leaned forward, feeling around for the jar and it hit Ardyn like a brick to the face.

The man was blind.

Ardyn walked forward and the man went still, like a prey animal freezing in sight of a predator. His fingers curled protectively around his jar, and Ardyn wondered how many times his jar had been stolen from him.

Ardyn knelt next to him.

“That was the most…beautiful and heart wrenching music I have ever heard,” Ardyn said softly.

The man bowed his head, relaxing fractionally. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Ardyn dug into his wallet, pulling out a folded hundred dollar bill. He gently took the man’s hand, noting with a frown how cold his fingers were.

“Here. One hundred isn’t much, but please, go get yourself a warm meal.”

The man gasped, head flinging back and pulling his hand away from Ardyn in shock. Ardyn got his first look at the man’s face and he felt a stab of horror go through him. What had happened to the poor man?

His left eye was scarred shut, a spiderweb of scars branching out past his temple. His lip had a scar on it, as did his nose and right eyebrow. His right eye was stone grey, sightless, piercing Ardyn’s heart.

The man seemed to realize what he had done and dropped his head, hair covering the left side of his face again. He shook slightly, fingers searching for the dropped bill. He found it, and pressed it back into Ardyn’s hand.

“One dollar is more than enough, sir,” the man said, voice trembling. “I can’t take that.”

“Please,” Ardyn said, folding the man’s cold fingers around the bill. “It’s the least I can do for such wonderful music.”

The man shook his head, trying to push it back. Ardyn could see tear tracks on the right side of the man’s face.

“Take it, please.” 

Finally, the man gave in, opening his guitar case and tucking the hundred dollar bill under the old velvet lining.

“May I ask your name?” Ardyn asked.

The man swallowed, latching his guitar case. “Ignis,” he said softly.

“Hello, Ignis. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Ardyn Izunia.”

Ignis froze, right eye going wide. “The pianist?” he whispered, voice thick with shock.

Ardyn tilted his head. “Guilty as charged.” He felt a little awkward, as he always did when someone recognized him.

“Oh,” Ignis whispered. He covered his face, shoulders shaking as he cried. Ardyn didn’t know what to do. This was well outside his purview. 

“I saw you perform once,” Ignis said thickly, fingers clutching a chain around his neck. “Three, nearly four years ago. It was…inspiring. That performance was what made us decide to start performing in public.”

“You give shows?” He’d said us. Ardyn wondered who the ‘us’ was.

Ignis went still. His hand fell from the chain and Ardyn saw it was simple engagement ring. 

“Once. Not anymore,” he said flatly. “Not since,” he gestured hopelessly at his face, lifting his head and brushing his hair back. Let Ardyn see how scarred and horrid he looked. He had nothing to lose.

“Who wants to look at this?” Ignis asked bitterly, fingers running over the scars.

Ardyn tilted his head. “Come now, one of the best musicians in the world wore a mask on one side of his face. You could make it stylish.”

Ignis snorted, lips curling in a smile. “I saw _The Phantom of the Opera_ too, you know.”

Ardyn smiled. “You should smile more often.”

Ignis looked startled, dropping his head and blushing slightly.

“Come, let me buy you dinner,” Ardyn said.

Ignis lifted his head, one eye wide in the dim light. “Are…are you sure? I’m not the greatest company in the world…”

“I’m very sure,” Ardyn said, helping Ignis put the lid on his jar (Ardyn took out the bottle cap) and helping the man to his feet.

“Come,” Ardyn said. He kept his hand on the small of Ignis’ back as they walked, guiding him quietly. Ignis took slow steps, guitar case hanging at his side.

Ardyn made a snap decision and headed to his hotel. It overlooked the large park. He glared at the doorman who moved to stop Ignis from coming in, flashing his room key. 

“This sounds like a hotel,” Ignis said, clutching his guitar case tighter.

“It is,” Ardyn said.

Ignis tensed as Ardyn pushed him gently into the elevator. 

“It’s okay, Ignis. I’m not going to murder you.”

“What if I asked nicely,” Ignis muttered. Ardyn gave him a swift look, a frown pulling at his lips. Ardyn didn’t say anything as the elevator door opened and he led Ignis to his suite of rooms.

Ignis stood in the center of the room, holding his guitar case like a shield. He didn’t want to sit down. He was sure this was a very nice hotel and they didn’t like it when homeless scum like him somehow got in.

He knew he was dirty. He tried to stay as clean as possible, but it was hard. The shelter was always overcrowded and he didn’t trust people not to try to take his guitar.

“We’re about the same size,” Ardyn murmured, going through his closet. “These should fit you.”

Ignis tilted his head, heart pounding. He opened his mouth, closed it.

“Well, you can’t go to the concert tonight dressed like that,” Ardyn said, noting his confusion.

Ignis looked shocked. “Concert?” he asked warily.

“Yes. I’m performing at the Lucian Opera Hall tonight. I’d like you there.”

Ignis felt his knees go weak and he swayed. He felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and lead him to a plush chair, sitting him in and taking his guitar case with care.

“But…I’m no one,” Ignis whispered.

“You play amazing music,” Ardyn said, hands resting on Ignis’ shoulders. “That alone is enough.”

Ignis bowed his head and wept. He leaned into Ardyn’s hands. How long had it been since someone had touched him with a kind hand?

“Now, would you like a shower? I can order room service while you take one.”

Ignis nodded. A real shower sounded absolutely divine. 

Ardyn led him to the bathroom and turned on the shower for him, closing the door behind him. 

Ignis stood in the bathroom and slowly started to get out of his layers of clothing. He folded them as carefully as he could, feeling his way into the shower. He groaned as the hot water hit him, washing off days of dirt. He stood under the showerhead, letting the water soak his hair. He felt around until he found the shampoo and put a tiny amount into his hands. Scrubbing his hair and skin with nice soap and unlimited hot water was one of the best gifts he had ever been given.

After some time, he finished, turning off the water and feeling for a towel. He dried himself off, feeling nearly renewed. It was amazing what a real shower could do.

He found the clothes Ardyn had left him and managed to get the underwear and pants on, but he found he couldn’t get the shirt buttoned right. He could feel that it wasn’t sitting correctly on his chest and he couldn’t figure out where he’d missed the button.

Ignis eased out into the room, stomach rumbling loudly at the smell of the burger from room service.

Ardyn looked up as Ignis opened the door and his mouth fell open. The man could clean up, that was for sure. His hair was soft and shiny now, a lighter brown than Ardyn had realized. The scars stood out more against his clean skin, and Ardyn could see scars on his chest as well.

“I can’t get the shirt right,” Ignis said, frustrated.

“Here,” Ardyn said kindly, quickly unbuttoning it and tugging it to fit correctly before buttoning it back up. His eyes were drawn to the scars he saw a flash of on Ignis’ shoulder.

“Thank you,” Ignis said quietly.

“You’re most welcome,” Ardyn said. “I ordered you a burger. I hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” Ignis said, following the scent to the table. He ran into a chair and grunted, easing himself into it. Something without utensils was grand. At least this way he didn’t have to embarrass himself by stabbing at food he couldn’t see.

He ate the burger slowly, listening to the sound of the shower turning on as Ardyn started to get ready for his concert.

Ignis lifted his hand and touched Noctis’ ring, hanging around his neck.

“You would love this, Noctis,” he whispered, overcome with tears. He pushed the empty plate aside and put his head on the table, shoulders shaking as he cried.

Ardyn paused when he came out of the bathroom, watching Ignis’ shoulders shake with silent tears.

He padded forward nearly silently on bare feet, sitting next to him. He didn’t say anything, he just took Ignis’ hand and let the man know he was there.

Ignis lifted his head, dashing away tears with his free hand.

“Noctis idolized you,” Ignis said quietly. “He followed your career and had all your CDs.”

“Who is Noctis?” Ardyn asked, thumb rubbing small circles on Ignis’ hand.

Ignis sniffed. “He was my fiancé. We played together. He played the flute magnificently. He…he died the night this happened.” He touched his scars again.

“Oh, Ignis,” Ardyn said, squeezing his hand.

“We had just done our first big concert, opening for the Lucian Symphonic Orchestra, and on the way home we were hit by a drunk driver. He died on impact, and I was left like this.”

Ignis’ sightless eye stared past Ardyn, seeing into the past.

“When I cleaned out our apartment, I found your CDs. I played them, and it was that music that made me feel close to Noctis again. It was your music that made me realize I couldn’t give up my music.”

“I’m so sorry, Ignis,” Ardyn said quietly.

“Noctis proposed the night we went to your concert,” Ignis said, voice cracking. “He gave me this ring and my guitar.”

No wonder the guitar was so well cared for, Ardyn thought sadly.

“You don’t have to come if it’s too much,” Ardyn said. “I’m here for a few more days. You can just stay here if you’d prefer.”

Ignis dropped his head, thinking.

“No. I’d like to go, but…I am afraid to leave the guitar behind.” He took it everywhere with him. He didn’t trust people not to take it, and he would be devastated if he lost it.

“Then bring it,” Ardyn said, standing up. “Music is always welcome.”

He found Ignis a pair of shoes that fit him and helped him finish getting dressed. Ignis clutched his guitar case to him as Ardyn led him back to the lobby and to the waiting limo. Ardyn watched as Ignis compulsively stroked the guitar case. He wondered what had made Ignis open up to him, but he was thankful. He felt drawn to this man, this musician. 

They reached the opera hall and Ardyn led Ignis in through the back door. He sat Ignis down in a box seat just next to the stage.

“You’ll be here alone, is that okay?”

Ignis nodded. He was used to being alone. He could hear the chattering of people streaming in to see the concert. Ardyn gently touched his shoulder.

“I’ll come for you after the concert, okay? Enjoy it.”

Ignis nodded, whispering his thanks. He wasn’t sure how this had happened, but for the first time in two years, he felt a warm excitement bubbling in his chest.

Some time later, the crowd fell into silence, and Ignis sat forward. He heard footsteps across a stage, and the sound of leather creaking as Ardyn sat on the piano bench.

The music started, each note lifting to the heavens and curling around Ignis’ heart, breaking down the wall he had spent two years building. Ignis felt the music in his soul, in his heart. He realized with a start it was a song that he and Noctis had played together. It was one that Ardyn had written, one of his first ones.

It was slow, and somber, and Ignis let himself cry as the music soared and sang through him. He could feel Noctis in the music, nearly see his smiling face, hear his laugh, and he cried for his lost love.

He swore he felt a pair of lips against his ear and long lost voice whispering his name.

_Ignis. Be happy._

He sobbed silently, Ardyn’s music healing the ragged scars on his soul.

FFXV

After the concert, Ardyn took him back to the hotel. Ignis was quiet, but Ardyn thought he seemed to be at peace. He gave off a different feel than he had before the concert.

They sat in a comfortable silence, sipping tea.

“Thank you for letting me come tonight,” Ignis said finally. “I…I think I needed it.”

Ardyn smiled. “Of course.”

Ignis finished his tea and stood up. Ardyn watched him with a frown as Ignis picked up his guitar case and opened it, pulling out the instrument. He sat on the edge of the bed and cradled it in his arms, holding it gently.

His fingers moved over the strings, plucking out a familiar song. Ardyn was startled to realize it was the very song he had opened the concert with, one of the first ones he had written.

He closed his eyes, letting the tones of the guitar wash over him. It sounded different on guitar, but just as heartfelt as the music Ignis had played earlier. 

“Beautiful,” Ardyn murmured as Ignis’ fingers stilled.

“It was always one of our favorites to play,” Ignis admitted, a mindless tune rising from his hands.

Ardyn smiled. “You honor me by playing it.”

Ignis half shrugged, blushing slightly.

Ignis continued playing well into the night. Words weren’t really needed between them. Ignis let his music speak to Ardyn instead.

Ardyn heard it in every note; gratefulness, love, a mending heart.

FFXV

Ardyn asked Ignis back to the concert the next night, and the next. The last night Ardyn was in town came, and he asked Ignis back.

He didn’t put Ignis in the box seat, but set him in a chair in the wings of the stage.

He didn’t start with the song he usually did, and Ignis tilted his head, a frown on his face. Ardyn had started with the same song every night.

Ardyn came to the last song of the night and stood up.

“I am going to invite someone to come play with me,” Ardyn said. “His name is Ignis, and I met him a few nights ago. His music drew me to him, and I hope you will indulge me by letting him play.”

Ignis’ mouth hung open, and he felt Ardyn’s warm hand enclose his, pulling him out on stage with his guitar in hand.

That sneaky bastard, Ignis thought half fondly.

“I can’t, Ardyn,” he said urgently.

Ardyn took Ignis’ face in his hands. “Yes you can, Ignis. I believe in you. You are like me, music is in your soul and if you don’t play, you wither away. Play with me. You know the song.”

He pulled a stool out for Ignis, sitting him on it. Ignis could feel the eyes of the audience on him and he swallowed. He heard Ardyn sit back at the bench, fingers brushing the keys.

He was waiting for Ignis to start. 

Ignis took a shuddering breath, and he nearly fell off the stool when he heard a familiar voice call out from the crowd.

“You can do it, Ignis! Noctis would be so proud of you!” 

It was Regis, Noctis’ father. Ignis hadn’t talked to him since the hospital.

Ignis bowed his head, tears welling in his eye again. 

Yes, he thought, Noctis would be proud of him.

His fingers started to move, coaxing the music from the guitar. After a few measures, Ardyn joined in, the piano and guitar weaving together.

It was both a hello and a goodbye for Ignis.

He tilted his head towards Ardyn, playing together like they had done it before.

The song ended, the silence in the hall echoing.

He heard a whistle and suddenly the crowd was on their feet, thunderous applause washing over them.

Ardyn stood, taking Ignis’ hand and guiding him into a bow.

The curtain fell, and Ignis turned his head as he heard a familiar footstep.

“Ignis,” it was Regis.

Ardyn stepped back, nodding to the man. It hadn’t been too hard to track Noctis’ father down and give him a ticket to the concert. He and Regis had had lunch that day, and Regis had been devastated to learn that Ignis had been homeless. They had talked, and Ardyn and told him his plans. Regis was more than happy to help.

“Regis,” Ignis said, voice cracking. He felt those arms wrap around him.

“Noctis would be so happy that you’re performing again,” Regis whispered in his ear. “Don’t stop playing, Iggy.”

Ignis cried into Regis’ shoulder. “But Ardyn is leaving tomorrow and I will…be back where I was.”

He felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and he started, lifting his head.

“I would like you to come with me,” Ardyn said gently. “Play with me, let your heart sing again.”

Ignis looked shocked. Regis squeezed him gently.

“Be happy, Ignis. Go with Ardyn. Love again. Keep playing.”

“But…”

“You will always be like a son to me,” Regis said firmly, pulling Ignis’ head down and kissing his forehead. “You never had to marry Noctis to be my son. You deserve happiness. Noctis would want you to love again.”

Ignis felt more tears running down his face. He was afraid, but…

He turned his head to Ardyn.

Ardyn gently touched his face, and Regis stepped back, letting them have their moment.

“Goodbye, my son,” Regis said, tears on his face. He was smiling as Ardyn leaned down and kissed Ignis gently on the mouth.

Ignis closed his eye, the kiss taking him away, much like music did.

He embraced Regis one last time, and followed Ardyn back to the hotel.

They left the next morning, heading for the next city. 

They played together for the rest of their lives, heart and soul entwined through the music that they played.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love.
> 
> Are you tired of me flooding the Ardnis tag yet?


End file.
